43rd Hunger Games
by Acacia Eastbramble
Summary: *CLOSED* The Reapings have begun. Will the odds be in your tribute's favor? Well, they have a one in 24 chance of survival so good luck and may the odds be EVER in your favor! Best, Acacia Eastbramble, Head Gamemaker
1. SYOT Instructions

**Hello there!**

I've decided that I am going to do an SYOT for the Hunger Games that takes place before the series.

Welcome to the 43rd Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!

* * *

><p>District 1: Luxury Goods for the Capitol<p>

**-female: Calista Caedes**

**-male: Jace Tignor**

District 2: Gem mining and where the Peacekeepers are trained

**-male: Pontius Sapher**

**-female: Lucy Pavlow**

District 3: Electronics/Technology

**-female: Genesis "Genny" Brighton**

**-male: Tyler Rayling**

District 4: Fishing

**-male: Jake Knight**

**-female: Nadianna Woodlock**

District 5: DNA Splicing (presumably. Never really specified)

**-male: James Cygnet**

**-female: Ophelia Whinters**

District 6: Scientific Research

**-male: Edwin Drood**

**-female: Lorena Anguine**

District 7: Lumber

**-male: Rocketi Merkava**

**-female: Avery/Naveah Dayton**

District 8: Textiles (Peacekeeper uniforms)

**-female: Sofia Doriano**

**-male: Temp Esren**

District 9: Food Processing

**-female: Trinity Bomber**

**-male: Burr Bledsoe**

District 10: Livestock

-**female: Ariel Kramer**

**-male: Rezon Asmers**

District 11: Agriculture

**-female: Serendipity Mauve**

**-male: Kanne Ninfauder**

District 12: Coal mining

-**male: Slade Riley**

**-female: Finn Beckett**

* * *

><p>Okay, so what's going to happen is I am going to give a template for your tribute. Each person can only make one tribute to begin with, but if it's been awhile since I've received any tributes I will open it back up for people who have already submitted a tribute. You act as your tribute's mentor and stylist. (If you give no advice or consulting on the styling of your tribute they will get no advice and I will design their outfit for the interview). I will be doing the outfits for the chariots so that if two different people submit tributes for the same district, it won't have two different chariot outfits. Suggestions are welcomed though.<p>

I need you to be as specific as possible on all the information I ask for or your character will be really shallow and likely not attract very many sponsors.

* * *

><p><strong>Speaking of sponsors:<strong>

We need them. If you want to be a sponsor, PM me with the tribute you would like to sponsor.

**AND MENTORS**, contact sponsors if they haven't already offered to sponsor a tribute.

Here is how the sponsoring is going to work:

First 3 chapters: food and water only

After these first three chapters anything goes, BUT each sponsor will be given a certain number of credits they can use on their tribute. I've yet to decide on an exact number. Objects will have certain credit values and once you run out of credits you can no longer provide things for your tribute.

Here's an example:

Say Cinna-man has sponsored Emmy. Cinna-man has provided food and water for Emmy every day at 10 credits a day for the last week and a half. Cinna-man started off with 150 credits and after ten days in the arena he now has only 50 credits with which to buy things for Emmy, but Emmy needs a crossbow now and that costs 60 credits. So Cinna-man can't get it for her. Not ALONE at least. Cinna-man can however team up with Satta Kurosama and her remaining 15 credits and get Emmy her crossbow.

Got it?

**AND MENTORS**, you can sponsor other tributes, just not your own. (look for allies to support)

* * *

><p><strong>Mentors<strong>,

Once you have submitted your tribute (first come first serve on genders and districts) I will reply to you and you can then give me the advice you want them to receive on the train. After they reach the Capitol you can act as their stylist and tell me what advice their stylist has for them. After that there is the advice you want the escort to give them for their interview. And from then on there will be three opportunities for your mentor to give them advice at the end of each training day. Got that?

It's okay if you don't. At the end of each chapter I will remind you what I need for the next one.

When you PM be sure to label it 43rd Hunger Games otherwise I may overlook it.

Is there anything I've left off? If so let me know!

* * *

><p>Here's your template:<p>

Name:

Age:

District:

Gender:

Home life/ Family situation:

Association with the Hunger Games: (watched it, hated it, feared it, longed for it, etc.)

Volunteered/Chosen

Physical Description:

Personality:

Friends/Relationships:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Weapon of Choice:

Before the Games:

Interview Style: (be as specific as you want)

Interview Angle: (poor and defenseless, powerful, prideful)

Token:

Stance on Alliances:

Additional Information:

* * *

><p><strong>Alright! If you can think of anything else just let me know!<strong>

**Best of Luck,**

_**Acacia Eastbramble, Head Gamemaker**_


	2. District One Reaping

**Here is the first chapter since District One's tributes were among the first submitted. District Two's Reaping will follow shortly and District Three will come out as soon as I recieve the tributes for it. Don't get too used to the quick updates, I'm on vacation but once I get back I'm super busy. Here it is, your first tributes.**

* * *

><p><strong>District One:<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Calista Caedes<strong>

"Calista, it's time to get ready, princess," my mother called from downstairs.

"Getting to it, mother," I yelled back, rolling my eyes as I wiped the sweat from my brow. She just didn't realize how much training went into the Games. And I had to be especially prepared today, because today is MY day; the day I started the tedious journey that lead to the Victors' Village.

If everything had gone according to plan, I would be joining my older brother there. But no. The rest of the Careers turned on him. Really it was foolish of him to let his guard down, so it really was his fault. I would have done the same thing had I been the rest of the Careers. I will not make the same mistake. No. I am prepared. I am a Victor. I walk into the bathroom that links my bedroom and our fitness center and rinse my face.

"Time to get pretty," I say to the slender blonde girl in the mirror. Then I snort, "Who am I kidding, I'm always pretty."

I take my hair down and strip down to get in the shower. I will take my time today, letting the steam engulf my body until it's purged away every impurity that dared reside in my skin. I smirk as I scrub my hair with rose scented shampoo and complimentary lily scented conditioner. I can't even imagine how the people from poor districts go out in public. Do they even have soap? Who knew? It didn't really matter anyway. They always look disgusting compared to us. Me.

Once I'm fresh and clean, thirty minutes later, I walk into my closet and make a beeline straight to the back where, waiting in a glass case, is the most fabulous Reaping outfit anyone has ever had. A pair of white skinny jeans with silver curl embroidery and a ruffled blouse made of a fabric that appeared to swirl like the rapids of a river, the blues and white shifts and bending around her body. I looked at myself in the full length mirror as I tried to decide what to do with my wavy, blonde locks. Should I contain them in a bun that said ready for battle? Let them fall and try to attract sponsors with my beauty?

I settled for a compromise. I let my bangs fall along the sides of my face and put my hair up in a braided bun. To finish it off I curled my bangs into soft spirals. _Beautiful and deadly_, I thought. It was the perfect effect to give as a first impression on sponsors and tributes alike.

"It's time to go, Calista," my mother called. "Kalissa and Daddy are already in the car."

"Don't be so impatient, mother. I'll be down when I'm ready," I yelled as I dug through my make-up bag.

Perfection takes time. I pulled out my richest blue eye shadow and silver eyeliner and applied it liberally. The sponsors from the Capitol love lots of make-up. Throw on some mascara and then I'm ready. I'm ready for the first day of my new life. I stride down to the car and we're off.

"You look beautiful, darling," my father says as we pull into the parking lot for the square.

"I know," I say as I throw open the door to the car and step out, my blue, strappy heels the first sight of Esmond, my boyfriend.

He offers me his hand to help me out of the car but I simply hoist myself out instead. "I don't need your help, remember?"

"Of course," he says with a placating smile.

I kiss him lightly on the lips as I watch the rest of the kids from my district file into lines. "It's time for me to go."

And then I leave to go stand with the other seventeens. They're all smiling at me and complimenting me and wishing me luck. Everyone knows that I'm volunteering this year. This is MY year and no one is going to take it from me.

Our mayor reads off the stupid history thing about Panem and I am waiting for him to finish and wishing he'd talk faster, but he doesn't. Finally after what seems like an eternity, Fern steps up to the glass ball that holds the girls' names and I am already making my way through the crowd.

She spots me and simply tosses the slip back into the ball with the rest. "Hello, Calista," Fern bubbles, her shaggy mint green hair bouncing around her head, "Nice to see you again. I take it, it's your turn to volunteer."

I nod and turn to the audience with a confident smile. "I, Calista Caedes, volunteer for the 43rd Hunger Games."

I can't help but grin as the crowd cheers and whistles. Half of them are cheering because they think I can win or want me to win. The other half is cheering because they know I may not come back. But they're wrong and the next time I see them it will be from the Victor's Podium.

* * *

><p><strong>Jace Tignor<strong>

I watch as Calista mounts the stage, overconfident as usual. Sure she'll make it as far as the rest of the Careers, but not much farther. She'll need to be the first to go.

It wouldn't be difficult either. She has a soft spot for me after all. Yeah, yeah, she's dating Esmond, but that little twirp is about as likely to win the games next year as I am of well NOT winning the Games this year. It is a shame though, that I'll have to kill her. She's pretty, but too smart. I just hope the rest of the Careers want to get rid of her too, because doing it alone would be troublesome.

Regardless, she won't last long if I have any say in it. No one will. I'm anxious to move into my new house.

Fern warbles on about how great Calista is and the crowd cheers and I stand there and watch, knowing she won't be coming back. Poison, I think would be good for her. Wouldn't want to ruin her pretty face.

I smirk and turn my attention back to the podium where Fern is bustling over to the glass ball that contains the boys' names. I see that Merrick is making his way toward the stage and start for it myself. He will not take this opportunity from me.

Just as he reaches the edge of the stage I tap him on the shoulder. "You're in my spot," I say with an icy smile.

Merrick looks like he's about to say something when I grab his hand and pull him toward me as if to hug, like we're the best of friends. "You love your little sister, right?" Merrick freezes. "That's what I thought. If you're gone, who's going to take care of her? I guess that'd be up to me, huh?" Merrick shakes his head. "Good man, I knew you'd make the right choice." And I released him.

He walked back into the crowd, looking unnerved as I climbed the stairs to the stage. Fern looks confused by the interaction so I feel I must explain. "He has a little sister to take care of so I couldn't very well let him volunteered and get himself killed." And I smiled.

That does it. The crowd roars and I look over at Calista, who's confident smile cracks for a split second before she and paste an even bigger smile over it and starts clapping for me. Clapping for my death that will not come. Clapping for her doom.

And then Fern is gushing over her luck and Calista and I are shaking hands and hers is small and delicate in mine. She will not last. That thought makes me smile and I am ready for the cameras.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed it. Review please with any thoughts. Thanks for your interest!<strong>

**-Acacia Eastbramble**


	3. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**_SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE:_**

Okay so it seems like everyone is having trouble with two of the template requests.

Okay, so.

**Interview Style** is what your tribute _wears_ to the interview as opposed to how they _act _during their interview. If you do not want to be specific then you can just give me a color and a basic style (sexy, fierce, sweet, classy) and I will run with it from there. But I really need at least that.

**Life Before Games **is another one people seem to be having trouble with. It's basically how their daily life went prior to being chosen or volunteering for the Games. So for instance, in the actual book we see what Katniss does as her daily routine before she gets Reaped. Make sense?

**ALSO**, at this point you can start sending me any advice you want to give your tributes for on the train. It is only for that point. Other opportunities for advice will arise and I will inform you of them as they come up. Okey-dokey?

Good, I'm glad we understand each other.

**ALSO**, if you have any suggestions for your District's chariot design, let me know.

**_SPONSORS_**: Please, we need you! You're our only hope!

If not, then the tributes will all die off pretty fast and all of us from the Capitol know that starving to death is really anti-climactic.

**_MENTORS: _**Contact people who have you favorited or your friends and get them to be your sponsors. Get your ally's mentor to sponsor your tribute.

* * *

><p>Thank you,<p>

_Acacia Eastbramble, Head Gamemaker_


	4. District Two Reaping

**Alright, here it is! District Two's Reaping. I hope that anyone reading knows that I can't write and post District Three's Reaping without tributes for District Three. It's the only District that doesn't have any tributes submitted. I will post the Reapings IN ORDER which means this story can't be updated until I get tributes for District Three. Tell your friends, your siblings, you mom, your dentist. Whoever might be interested in sending a character on a potential suicide mission.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy District Two!**

* * *

><p>District Two:<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Pontius Sapher<strong>

I take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror. _This is it_, I think. The Reaping starts in a little less than an hour. I hear the TV in the background and see that they're finally choosing the tributes for District One. Wow, what a girl. She didn't even let the escort read the name off the slip. Overconfidence. It'll be what brings her down. That's what happened a few years ago to this one other boy from her district. Oh, that was her brother. I recognize the last name Caedes. If she's anything like her brother she won't be difficult to pick off.

I don't really like thinking of people that way. As obstacles to what I want, but that's the only way I'll survive.

Oh and here comes the boy tribute. I don't buy that sister excuse for a second. Jace has a look about him. A quiet insanity. I'll have to watch out for him. Maybe let him take point on the Career pack. As much as I want to be the leader, the leader draws far too much attention and he looks like he REALLY likes attention. Then again, don't most of us?

Yep, that's us, the attention whores of the Games, the Careers. It irks me a little to be lumped in with the rest of the Careers, but I guess it's a small price to pay for eternal glory and a spot in the Victor's Village.

I smooth out my button down shirt and slip on my shoes before retrieving a small box off my bedside table. I smile down at the box in my hand. It contains a beautiful bracelet from my family's shop. It's for Aelia, my girlfriend. I want her to wear it while I'm in the arena so that part of me will be with her.

I know she's worried about me, but I have to do this. It will get me out of the mainstream of District Two. I mean don't get me wrong, I know I'm lucky. But I can't help feeling like I'm trapped. If I don't win these games my options are pretty slim: take over the family business or become a Peacekeeper. And while I don't have a problem with any of the Peacekeepers personally, I don't like how the system works.

I shake my head and turn back towards the TV to see the two tributes from District One smiling artificially at each other. They can barely keep from tearing each other's throats out. I can tell. I turn the TV off and head downstairs to where I know my parents will be waiting with the car.

My mother is standing at the back door when I get there. I can tell she's on the brink of tears. MY father probably isn't fairly much better.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" my mother asks me as she reaches out to touch my cheek with her fingertips.

I reach up and hold my mother's hand, knowing it's the only way to reassure her. "Yes, Mom." Her hands are so small and delicate, perfect for making the beautiful jewelry from the shop.

My parents have never really understood why I wanted to take part in the Games. They think it's a death sentence, but I think it's a great opportunity. That's one place where you can really live. You're most alive when your life flashes before your eyes. And plus, who doesn't want their name to go down in the history books?

Regardless, I take my mother's hand and walk with her out to the car, opening her door for her. She's the kindest person I know and a lot of who I am is because of her. My dad is not a bad guy either, but he spends more time working than my mother. She's usually around the house or downstairs in the shop. I'm going to miss them while I'm in the arena. It will be difficult without their support.

_But I'll survive_, I think to myself and know I'm right. That's what I'll be: a survivor. A Victor.

The car pulls up to the square where the Reaping will be held. We're a little early, because I told Aelia I'd meet her here. I say goodbye to my parents before striding over to where Aelia is standing with a group of her friends.

She smiles brightly at me and I can't help but smile back. Her smiles are infectious like that and I wish I could take the warmth they give me into the arena.

"How's my Victor?" she asks as she skips the couple steps toward me and grabs my hands.

"Confident," I say, and I am, "But I'm going to miss you."

"Aw," she trills. She's got the sweetest soprano voice and I can't help that my grin grows wider, "How am I going to last without you here?" And she looks sad for a moment before looking back up at me and smiling.

I pull my hand away from hers for a moment and reach into my pocket for the small jewelry box. I watch her expression shift to one of ill-concealed excitement. I love that expression. She looks like her birthday's come early. "I want you to wear this while I'm in the arena and know that whenever you wear it, I'm with you and thinking of you."

She smiled at me. "I promise I won't take it off until you come back home," she said as she reached for the box.

I relinquished the box to her and she opened it eagerly and pulled out the bracelet, the stones twinkling in the morning sun. "They're the same color as your eyes," she said as she held the bracelet up next to my face.

I smiled at her and took hold of the bracelet and motioned to help her put it on. She was right; the bright green-blue stones were nearly identical to my eye color. The oval-cut gems were lined in bright silver with swirling filigree connecting each one.

"It's beautiful," she purred as she gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Like you," I returned, earning another kiss.

She pulled away and abruptly looked worried. "You'll be careful, won't you?"

"Of course. You know me,"

She nodded reluctantly and hugged me tight before we had to part and go stand with the rest of our age group.

The mayor started the long boring history of Panem and before long Raven was drawing the name from the boys' glass ball. Unconventional. Usually "Ladies First" is honored. I straighten up and prepare my most charming smile.

"Everet Beasel!" Raven cries and I hear parents yell in despair. They are so lucky I decided to volunteer.

I see Everet walking from the very back of the square. A twelve-year-old? How unfair. I must be the only justice in this world. I quickly raise my hand into the air and announce, "I volunteer."

Everyone turns and looks at me with a mixture of relief and sadness on their faces. They're glad that someone volunteered for the poor kid, but probably sad to see that it's me. I mean, I don't want to be conceited but I'm fairly popular around town and imagine most people don't want me to die. I bet they're worried because they've already heard about the boy from District One with his mad eyes. But I'm not worried about him. I can handle it.

I walk forward and meet the boy halfway to the stage. He's tearing up and saying thank you and I smile and ruffle his hair, because that's all I can think to do. Then I make my way onto the stage and stand beside Raven who looks positively ecstatic with my volunteering.

"And your name is?" he asks as he arches his perfectly sculpted eyebrows at me, his bright purple eyes creeping me out a bit.

I turn to face the audience and remember the girl from District One and her fake grin. I remain serious as best I can. "My name is Pontius Sapher and I volunteer in place of Everet Beasel."

Raven looks a tad confused and turns to me whispering, "You aren't related?"

"No," I answer.

"Not even a little bit?" he asks and I can't help but balk at him a little.

I turn back toward the audience and say, "No, we're not related, but I don't think anyone should have to do this without a choice and I've made my choice."

And the crowd erupts in applause and I nod my head in confirmation although I'm trying to keep a grin off my face. This is only the beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>Lucy Pavlow<strong>

Wow. Attention whore.

That's all I can think when I watch Pontius volunteer.

I can't say I'm complaining about him being my competition though. I mean, he's the nicest guy in the history of District Two tributes and he's a gentleman. He won't stand a chance against me. Nice guys never stand a chance against me. Just ask Amblin. Ha.

No, he won't be an issue.

Why am I volunteering, you wonder?

Well, why not?

I mean it's not like I have any reason to stay. No family. Not really any friends. Sure people know me and I'm popular, but I don't have any real friends.

"It's too bad Pontius is volunteering," Emblee says from next to me, "He's a really good guy."

"I know that," I snap.

I forgot about Emblee. She's the closest thing I have to a friend. The truth is she's just not smart enough to realize that I don't really like her. I mean I like having her around, but that's just because she agrees with whatever I say. Poor, naïve, sweet little Emblee with her blonde curls and freckles. She wouldn't last ten seconds in the arena. For a short moment I consider telling her to volunteer instead of me just to see if I'm right. She probably would too. Not the sharpest pick axe in the mine, if you catch my drift.

Anyway, I watch as Drama Queen Pontius selflessly volunteers for the poor twelve-year-old who got called. Ugh, that makes me sick. No need to make a production of it, just volunteer and get it over with.

After the applause dies down, Raven moves to the girls' glass ball and reaches in.

"Save your manicure, I volunteer." My voice carries through the silence of the square.

Raven looks up and grins at me with his too-white teeth. "Splendid!"

I make my way through the crowd, smiling at the people who are balking at me. "That's right," I say, "Stare. You'll be seeing this face all over the screen in a couple weeks."

I skip up the steps to the stage and stride over to Raven. "And your name is, dear?"

I glare at her a little. What's my name? Ugh. "Lucy Pavlow, of course."

"Fantastic," Raven says as he claps his hands together.

And then the mayor is reading the Treaty of Treason and I'm watching Pontius. He's a good looking guy. A little over average height, maybe a little too tall to look good standing next to me, but still, he's got a boyish charm about him that's rather disarming.

Regardless, he's going to have to go. And I don't really regret that. It doesn't bother me that the only way for me to live is for him to die. That's just the way of the world around here. Kill or be killed, welcome to Panem.

The mayor finishes and we step towards each other and he extends his hand with small smile. I reluctantly shake his hand and find myself wiping my hand on the hem of my blouse as he turns back to face the audience with his jaw set in determination, though I'm standing close enough to see the glimmer of eager excitement in his eyes.

So he's faking the selfless thing. No big surprise. We'll see how long that lasts in the arena. I turn to the audience and smile my most brilliant, charming smile and hope it looks as convincing as his frown.

These Games are going to be fun.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Review please.<strong>

**Oh, and good news. I just got a message from a potential sponsor! Remember, the more sponsors there are, the more interesting the Games will be! Tell your friends, Romans and countrymen 'cause we (and by we I mean you) need their help!**


	5. District Three Reaping

**Well here it is! The eagerly awaited (I hope) District Three Reaping! It took awhile to get these tributes so I thought I should try to get the chapter up as soon as possible. Tomorrow marks the end of my vacation so updates will be coming slower, but don't panic! It may go from every other day to once a week, but it will in fact _go_.**

**Read and Review!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>District Three<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Tyler Rayling<strong>

This is it. Reaping day. I'm so glad Lindy isn't old enough for the Reaping yet. That'd just be one more thing to be worried about.

I really needed to go to the market today and get some medicine for Dad. Don't worry, nothing serious. He's just had a cold for the past couple days. But he's been missing work because of it and we can't afford that. I mean, I could always pick up another shift at the lab if I had to, but Dad really doesn't want me to.

He already thinks I work too much. I work cleaning up one of the labs in the afternoons after school and when I have time I scout around the edges of the district, looking for food. I made a little bow and some traps. The traps are more useful than the bow though, because hardly anything worth shooting ever comes within range of the fence during the week. On the weekends when I have more time, I can wander into the woods a little more. The electricity that's supposed to course through the fence 24/7 is more like at night/mostly on weekdays. I only really take the bow with me on the weekends for that reason.

It isn't a very strong bow, but it does a pretty good job. I get mostly squirrels and rabbits with the occasional pigeon or wild turkey, but hey, meat is meat and I would turn my nose up to a squirrel any day.

The traps I usually put right outside the fence, just out of sight. I usually catch rats and dumb squirrels in them, but one time I caught quail (It was the best thing I had ever tasted) and I've caught a raccoon a couple times. The first time I caught a raccoon I tried to get it out of the trap and it bit me. I wrestled with it in the trap for a while before I finally got a knife through its neck. The bite got all infected and I got really sick, but Dad was able to get some medicine from the apothecary in exchange for some of the meat I'd gotten out of the traps.

From that point on I would always go back to the house and get my bow and arrows if I found a raccoon in one of my traps and shoot it through the throat before trying to get it out. The fought a lot less when they were bleeding out.

Oh yeah, but back to the Reaping. My dad let me wear one of his collared shirts. It's got a little stain at the bottom but you can't tell when I tuck it in. It used to be blue, but it's faded a little bit until now it's a little thread-bare and hardly blue at all, but it's still nicer than anything I have.

We're on our way now, walking of course. I watch as a couple cars pass us by and wonder if I'll ever have enough money for one. Doubtful. My dad is just a lab assistant and I'm just a lab assistant's son. No one special. No one really worth remembering.

"Fix your hair, Tyler," my dad says once we reach the square; he's pointing to my reflection in one of the shop windows.

I turn toward it and try to flatten my unruly brown hair into some semblance of order. It doesn't work very well.

"Spit on it," Lindy giggles from her place at my dad's side.

"Ew," I say and stick my tongue out at her and she just laughs more.

"Here, let me try," she says and then disentangles her hand from my dad's.

I kneel down and bend my head towards her, smiling. She always wants to help, and who am I to deny her that? She shuffling her little hands through my hair and combing through it with her fingers. It's still a little wet from washing it earlier.

"Well I might as well braid it. You need a haircut," she says in a huff when there's nothing she can do about my hair.

"Maybe tonight, we're going to be late if we don't hurry," I say and take her hand and walk with her to where my dad is now standing around the edge of the crowd.

"Good luck," she says as I release her hand and go to stand with the other fourteen-year-olds. I look around and spot Alex and go to stand with him.

"About time you showed up," he said just as the mayor took the stage.

I searched the crowd of thirteen-year-olds to try and find Ariadne. I couldn't find her anywhere. I was worried about her, as always. She's not my girlfriend or anything like that. Nothing like that in fact. She's like my adoptive sister. My adoptive sister that I'm worried about and can't find.

"Front left corner," Alex says with a chuckle.

Then I spot her, she's looking straight forward, but after a few moments she turns to face me. I guess she felt my eyes on her. I smile at her and she sends me a nervous smile of her own. Her attention darts back up to the stage for a moment and I look and notice that Schipple is walking over to the glass ball. I turn my attention back to Ariadne and she's looking at me again too.

"How's your dad?" she mouths to me.

"Good," I mouth back, "Still need some medicine though."

It's after that, that I notice that everything has gone silent. I look up, confused and I see that Alex is balking at me.

"What?" I whisper.

"Tyler Rayling?" Schipple asks for apparently the second time.

"No!" I hear my little sister scream and suddenly she's there, latched onto my arm and I'm frozen in place.

I see the Peacekeepers coming for me, but there is nothing I can do. I can't move. And Lindy is screaming and my father is yelling and I can hear him coughing. _I should have gotten the medicine yesterday._

That thought brings me back and I look down at Lindy who has tears streaming down her pretty face. "You have to let go, Lindy," I say softly, but she's shaking her head. At least she's stopped screaming.

Alex is motioning for the Peacekeepers to stop and they hesitate, not sure whether to continue or not.

"Ariadne, can you come get Lindy?" I yell to Ariadne who is already making her way over to me.

"Come on, Lindy. Your brother has to go," she says as she pulls Lindy's tiny hands off my arm. Lindy finally submits and instead wraps her arms tightly around Ariadne's neck and Ariadne hugs her close, murmuring comforting things. Then she's leading Lindy back over to Dad who isn't even trying to conceal his tears.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I think it's a Peacekeeper, but when I turn around, it's Alex and he says, "I can volunteer."

And I know he would, but I shake my head. Alex has a brighter future than I do and I know he can help take care of Lindy. "Just make sure Lindy's alright."

And I walk up to the stage. There's a knot in my throat, but I refuse to acknowledge it. I have to win. No matter what. I just have to.

* * *

><p><strong>Genesis Brighton<strong>

_That poor kid_, I think as I watch his friends drag his little sister away from him. I wonder if Cami would do the same thing if I got Reaped. Probably not. He's a strong kid. This is his first Reaping and I'm nervous for him. He's safe of course. It's me and Kal I have to worry about. This was his last year and since that other kid got Reaped, he's free and I'll have one less person to worry about next year. I think about how terrible this must be for Dad. Even if it is just for one year, all of his children are in the Reaping so the odds are definitely not in his favor. Especially with my twenty six entries and Kal's forty-five entries.

But there are other families that are worse off than us. Families with more children and less money.

That's what I always tell myself. There is always someone more likely than me. And now that Kal's safe, that's one less person who has more entries than me.

I think of poor Bethilda, who has four siblings and no father. She's seventeen and her name will go in fifty-one times.

I watch with trepidation as Schipple sticks her dainty painted fingers into the girls' glass ball and swirls her hand around before pulling out a slip and unfolding it.

My heart tightens in my chest as she studies the paper in front of her and I'm thinking of Bethilda and her fifty-one entries and how twenty-six of the slips in the glass ball say Genesis Brighton in official hand-writing.

"Genesis Brighton."

Twenty-five slips in the glass ball.

I can't help the gasp that escapes my lips, but I quickly capture the few choice words that are attempting to escape and think of the Capitol sponsors with their bizarre clothes and dyed skin and loads of money that could mean my life or death in the arena. And I manage a smirk. Not quite a smile. I'm not that good an actress, but a smirk.

Like I have a secret. Like that was supposed to happen.

_Maybe if I win they'll let me take my family to District Four so I can paint_.

That thought makes my smirk more convincing. I want the sponsors to know that I am in to win. No bloodbath for me, no sir. I'm gonna be a winner. A Victor.

I saunter up to the stage and make eye contact with my dad on the way up. He's barely containing his tears and I want to go and hug him. And then a thought occurs to me. I can do that.

I change course and head for the crowd and I can hear the Peacekeepers charging into action behind me.

I stop in front of my father and smile at him. I reach up and give him the biggest hug I can manage and he's whispering things like "I love you" and "There's got to be a way out of this."

I release him and smile. "I'll see you in a few weeks," I say loud enough for the fancy Capitol sponsors to hear over their fancy Capitol TVs.

And then I continue onto the stage and smile at Schipple who looks thrilled with my performance. "Magnificent!" she coos and claps me on the back.

And then the mayor is reading the Treaty of Treason and I'm watching Tyler. I think that was his name. I've seen him around town a few times. Poor kid doesn't have a mother. Just like me. Maybe we'll get along.

And then he looks over at me and I can feel the fear radiating off of him. He's practically shaking, but he offers me a small smile and I can tell that he means it. He's sorry I'm up here too.

And then the mayor finishes and we're supposed to shake hands. I hold my hand out to him and he takes it. I give his a reassuring squeeze and he returns it with a small, shy smile that I'm sure took every ounce of his courage.

"Smile for the cameras," I whisper under my breath and he actually laughs as we turn toward our district and the fancy Capitol sponsors.

I notice that his hair has become mussed and frown. I lick my hand and smash the unruly strand onto his head. "We are going to have to do something with that hair," I say and he laughs again and so does the audience.

We smile as the cameras take our picture and I wonder if I would be able to kill this scared boy standing next to me if I had to. I don't have much time to consider it before we're dragged off toward the Justice Building.

I guess this is it.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed it!<strong>

**A/N: Please send me the advice for your tribute on the train by PM with the subject marked Train Advice: (your tribute's name)**

**If you have any questions feel free to PM me!**

**Best,**

_**Acacia Eastbramble, Head Gamemaker**_


	6. District Four Reaping

**Well here it is: District Four Reaping. I hope I still have followers out there :looks around: Hm... maybe they're just hiding...? I hope. **

**Anyway, while I've got your attention: I have started work again so my updates will be fewer and farther between. The only reason for this is that I do not write my best when I am exhausted after spending an entire day with multitudes of children, so I will take more time writing chapters from now on to ensure that they are the same quality as my earlier ones.**

**Thanks for understanding! :) On with the chapter!**

* * *

><p>District 4<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Jake Knight<strong>

Today is the beginning of a new life.

That's what I keep telling myself to keep from thinking this is a mistake. Most Careers (I shudder at the thought) are excited about their chance to finally make it to the Games. When it's finally their turn. Well it's my turn this year.

It's a terrible idea, but I've been training. I was supposed to enter last year, but with my parents' death and having to take care of my little sister, I just couldn't bring myself to enter. I couldn't leave her so soon after.

But now is the time. My parents had wanted me to after all. This is the last year that I'm eligible so it's now or never.

Alice will be fine if, heaven forbid, I don't come back. That thought makes me nauseous and I brace my hands on either side of the sink while I regain my balance, my breakfast and—

"Are you alright, Jake?"

- my dignity.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Alice. Just stood up too fast, that's all," I reply as I look at her in the mirror. She's petite and fragile looking. Kind of a contrast to me.

"You were already standing," she points out with a giggle and I can't help but smile.

"Whatever, you little punk," I say and ruffle her long black hair, which she pinned up in little periwinkle bows.

"Hey!" she protests and immediately goes to the mirror to straighten her hair. She has to stand on a step stool. I have to hunch to see my hair in that mirror.

_Speaking of my hair_, I think as I run my fingers through the shaggy black mess. I probably should have gotten it cut before now. It's starting to get a little long.

"You need to do something about that," Alice says as she turns to face me and points at my hair.

"Well what do you suggest I do?" I ask as I cock my head to the side.

"Take scissors to it. You look untidy," she says and scrunches her sweet little face up and wrinkles her nose.

"Heaven forbid I look _untidy_," I say in a fake appalled voice while covering my mouth.

She glares at me from under black bangs with crossed arms and says, "Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes please," I give in.

"Go sit on the toilet," she orders, "while I get the scissors."

Twenty minutes later, my hair was manageable and tastefully styled.

"I'm never going to get my hair cut again; I'm just going to let you do it," I say while I look at it in the mirror.

"Will you pay me?" she jokes.

"You live here don't you," I say as I stick my tongue out at her.

She narrows her pretty blue eyes at me and I can't help but chuckle. She's about as intimidating as a basket full of kittens.

And then she stomps viciously on my toes.

"Ow!" I yelp.

"You deserved it," she sing-songs and then skips sweetly out of the bathroom.

I roll my eyes and follow her. "It's time to go," I say and suddenly she looks nervous.

"What if I get Reaped?" she asks, looking up at me.

"I'll be there to protect you know matter what," I say and I mean it. If she were to get Reaped I would be with her the whole way in the arena until it was just us and then we would wait.

"Okay," she says, but she looks unsure so I take her little hand in mine and sit down on one of the chairs in the kitchen and pull her into my lap and hug her.

She'll calm down. She's a tough kid and she won't want to look weak at her first Reaping. There will be no tears. I rock her back and forth for a couple of moments and then she pulls back and stands up.

"We're going to be late."

And we're through. We walk out to the car and drive to the square. I give her a quick kiss on the top of her head while she goes and stands with the twelve-year-olds and I go stand with the eighteen-year-olds.

"Good luck," Geldly says from next to me and flick my eyes toward him and raise my eyebrows and give no response.

I guess Geldly could be considered a friend although we haven't spoken in months. Apparently I _changed_ after my parents died and so no one likes me anymore. That's a load of bull. Wouldn't you change if your parents died and you were responsible for the well-being of your younger sibling?

Whatever. I don't acknowledge him anymore.

Out of the corner of my eye I see him turn away and start talking to a couple other people who also used to be my friends.

_Better not to have friends right now_, I think, _less people get hurt that way_.

That's what I keep telling myself to keep from thinking this is a mistake.

The mayor must have started a little while ago, because Quietly (bizarre Capitol people and their taste in names) is already reaching into the glass ball for the male tribute. I start toward the stage just as he starts to read the name.

"I volunteer," I say and I am proud that my voice carries and doesn't shake.

"And you are?" Quietly asks not so quietly.

"Jake Knight,"

"Great," he exclaims and tosses the slip back into glass ball, "We have our newest tribute!"

People clap, but I have a feeling it's out of pity not actual excitement. Everyone around knows my younger sister. She'll be fine without me. People will take care of her, not for my sake, but for hers.

This thought comforts me enough to smile out at them as if I am actually happy to see them.

* * *

><p><strong>Nadianna Woodlock<strong>

Jake is so lucky. He can do whatever he wants, what with no parents and all. I wish I could volunteer, but my parents won't let me.

I mean I shouldn't complain about my parents. They do everything for me and my little sister. But I don't want their money or their gifts; I just want to be able to train and volunteer like anyone else in my district. It isn't fair.

I could go this year. I really could. I'd be ready. I mean I'd be more ready next year and the year after that, but I am ready now. I've always been ready. But my parents insist that I'm too small to participate in the Games.

I sigh. It just isn't fair.

Quietly is pulling a slip out of the glass ball for the girls and I am already bored. This year's Reaping is just like all the years before. No one in District Four that doesn't want to go has to go. Someone is always willing to volunteer so parents really have nothing to worry about.

"Nadianna Woodlock," Quietly announces and I hear my parents gasp. They must know what's going to happen now.

I see a girl from the seventeens walking forward to volunteer for me so I rush to get to the stage.

"I volunteer," the girl states and Quietly looks pleased.

"I refuse to let her volunteer for me," I state as I mount the stage.

"What?" Quietly looks confused.

"I'm not letting her volunteer for me, I want to go."

"Oh. Very well then. Next year, perhaps, dear," Quietly says to the girl and she walks from the stage dejectedly.

I smile out at the crowd and think of how pissed my parents are going to be when they get to see me off. Not even that thought can bring me down.

I smile and wave at the crowd and this moment is the happiest in my life so far. I step back as the mayor starts to read the Treaty of Treason.

I turn and look at Jake Knight who is looking at me too and I wonder what he's thinking. Probably how easy I look to kill. I snort a little and he looks at me funny. I just smile at him and then make a face and he chuckles back. And then we're shaking hands and his are callused and dry and I can smell salt on him and I think that he won't be so hard to kill. I look out at the audience and find his little sister. She's a sweet girl. If I have to kill him, I'll at least make sure she's okay.

I look back at him and he's looking at her too. He looks back at me and is concerned for a moment before I see something flash across his eyes and he smiles at me, probably following my train of thought.

Then we are whisked away to the Justice Building to tell our loved ones goodbye.

* * *

><p><strong>Well I hope you liked it.<strong>

**I can't remember if I mentioned this in a previous chapter or not, but I do not favor whichever tribute is written first. I do this so I can show different aspects of people's personalities. For example, I wrote Jace from District One shorter than Calista, because I wanted to keep him a mystery and Calista seems like a fairly blunt person so I wanted people to get to know her better. Same goes for Pontius from District Two, I wanted people to get to know him within his home parameters instead of within the Capitol parameters. So we'll see more from Lucy in the Capitol and less from Pontius.**

**In short, just because your tribute doesn't get the long part of the Reaping, doesn't mean they're going to die sooner or be less important. It is simply a stylistic choice.**

**Review please! :)**


	7. District Five Reaping

**A/N: After forever-and-a -day, here it is! District 5!**

* * *

><p><strong>District Five<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Ophelia Whinters<strong>

I woke at precisely 8:42 AM. My alarm was meant to go off at 8:45 but I had known I wouldn't need it. I reached over and turned it off. I had let myself sleep in because it's Reaping day. I had exactly two hours and eighteen minutes before I needed to be in the square. What to do with all of this extra time? I could read. The books lining my bookshelf hold little appeal; I've read them all too many times, having long since memorized each and every page.

I suppose I should go meet up with Winslow and Esbony. As much as I love them, their proclivities towards outward displays of affection get really old, really fast.

Plus, I won't be meeting up with them until 10:30 when we go to town and try to trade things at the market. The market isn't really supposed to be open on Reaping day, but around here, no one can afford to be shut down for long, not even a day so we make sure and go to trade every day.

So for now I sit in bed and wonder what the odds are of my name being pulled out of the glass sphere. It's only slightly higher than last year. _.66% chance of my name being pulled out of the ball_, there are people far more likely than myself. I comforted myself with that thought and pulled myself out of bed.

I stretch and go to the tub in the corner of the room I share with Cissni, my older sister. I turn the water on and am pleased to find that it's warm today. The water system can be so unreliable.

I decide that today I can afford to take a longer bath than usual so instead of getting out by nine or so I decide I'm going to soak until Cissni's alarm wakes her at 10:15. The water has started getting cold by the time Cissni's alarm goes off. She sluggishly pulls herself out of bed, with her alarm still blaring obnoxiously. She makes a vague motion at the bedside table that I assume is meant to turn the alarm off, instead her hand just thunks uselessly against the corner of the table and she mumbles in pain.

Cissni hasn't been the same since she got diagnosed. She used to be so full of life. I watch as she grumbles more and finally hits the button on her alarm. She also used to be a morning person. But she's tired all the time now. The only reason she's getting out of bed today is to come to the square with us for the Reaping. It takes her far longer to get ready than anyone else.

"Good morning," I say with a smile as I pull myself out of the tub and wrap up in a towel.

"Morning," she grumbles with a yawn.

"The water is warm today," I say as I drain my already cold water.

"Great," she says and brightens a bit. "Are you going to the market with Esbony and Winslow?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

She strides over to wear her shoes sit by the door with a pair of socks stuffed into them. She peels part of the sole of the shoe up and pulls a couple bills out from between. "I want you to get us matching ribbons for our hair. I want to be out there with you."

I smile and take the money from her. I don't really care about the ribbon idea much, but I know it must mean a lot to Cissni for her to give me money she's saved for so long. "What color were you thinking?"

"What about green? It goes so well with your complexion," she says with a smile that is freer than my own. I don't think I could smile if I was given a death sentence like she was. "You'd better hurry or you're going to be late."

And I am, but not by long.

Esbony and Winslow are holding hands and talking when I approach our meeting place. It's an old tree that's limbs have grown into the building that houses the market on days when the market isn't supposed to be open.

"Hey," Esbony says as she unlatches from Winslow and bounces over to me with a smile. Esbony is one of the loudest people I know and I mean that in the best way possible.

Winslow just crosses his arms and smiles at me from behind Esbony. They are complete opposites, both physically and personality wise.

I smile back at them. "We have a request from Cissni," I tell them, "She wants me to get us matching ribbons for our hair, preferably green."

"Oo, I can help!" Esbony says as she grabs my hand and yanks me toward the entrance of the market, grabbing Winslow along the way.

An hour-and-a-half later I am looking for my sister in the crowd of spectators in the square. I finally spot her and quickly make my way over. There isn't much time before the Reaping starts.

"Oh it's perfect!" she squeals when I hand her the ribbon. It's a light green the color of the insides of limes. She ties her hair into a ponytail with it and makes a big bow. "Where's yours?"

I hand her mine and she motions for me to turn around. I do and she ties the ribbon as a headband because my hair is too short and thin to put into a ponytail like hers. I turn back around and she motions at a store window nearby and we go look in the reflection. I now have a light green bow just over my left ear. It makes me look older I think, having my hair pulled back from my face, my pointed ears are more prominent too. You can see the resemblance between Cissni and me more clearly now that my hair is out of my face. We share the same dark eyebrows and blonde hair although hers is much longer and thicker, though it has been thinning out as she gets sicker.

"You look great!" she says and gives me a hug. And I hug her back because now I'm getting scared that I may not get to again. I'm glad she isn't in the drawing anymore, but I still wish I could stand by her.

"Thanks," I say as I pull away. "I have to go now. I'll see you in a little while."

I go and stand next to Esbony in the lineup and she looks scared. "What if my name gets called?"

"It won't. You're even less likely than me and I've only got a .66% chance of being called," I say and I smile at her. For all of her bold talk, she's just as scared as everyone else.

She takes a deep breath and faces back toward the stage where Soul is talking about the tradition and yatti yatta. It really bores me.

No matter how zoned out I am, I focus when I hear "Ladies first."

Soul reaches into the ball, holding his long, robe-like sleeve up. He swooshes his hand around and makes dramatic faces and I can feel everyone around me cringe at his jewel encrusted teeth.

He yanks his hand out of the ball, scattering slips of paper everywhere and I see the eighteen-year-old girls scrambling to get a good look at the paper that fell out of the ball.

"Ophelia Whinters!" he announces excitedly and then comically shields his eyes from the non-existent sun and looks over the audience.

I release the breath I didn't know I had been holding. I look up at one of the monitors that have been set up around the square and I see the cameras are panning over the audience, looking for me. If I just stand still, maybe they won't notice me. Just as I think I am quite clever, Esbony shrieks and throws her arms around me.

I look back up and the cameras have found me. I give Esbony and awkward hug and then detach her from my neck. I look over my shoulder and spot my father, Cissni and Asmode, my older brother and Lerita and Tidia, my younger sisters. My older brother is holding my sister as she shrieks into his chest and my father is leaning against the façade of one of the old dilapidated buildings for support as she sobs. I make eye contact with Asmode and he gives me a small, reassuring smile. I know he is trying to hold back tears for the sake of my family. I see that Lerita is trying to comfort Tidia who is crying, mostly because my father is crying and she doesn't know why. Lerita has always been such a strong girl.

I feel a hand on my arm and I look up to see a young, dark haired Peacekeeper. He's trying to get me to go ahead and go. I nod at him and he releases my arm. I give Winslow a hug as I walk past the fourteen-year-olds. He won't volunteer and I wouldn't ask him to. Plus, he isn't safe yet either.

Soul grins at me with his bedazzled teeth when I take the stage and I offer him a smile of my own, the most convincing one I can manage. Starting now, my goal is to be as confident and appealing as possible. Sponsors like those people. Those people stay alive the longest. I just hope I can be one of those people.

* * *

><p><strong>James Cygnet<strong>

_She won't last long_.

That's the first thing that comes to mind when I see the poor thirteen-year-old get called.

Don't look at me like that, you know she won't either. Not without some major help. She's unique looking. That'll help, but stylists can only do so much and she is small and delicate looking. She better have some real fighting skills if she wants to last through the bloodbath.

Wow, she's frozen. Hasn't moved since she pried her friend off of her. Can't freeze like that in the arena, sweetheart.

Oh look, she finally comes back to reality and she's… smiling?

Well, if she's smart enough to play it off, maybe she does have a chance.

That's not how I would do it, personally. I mean, I've had six years to think about what I would do if my name was called.

Upon hearing my name I would smirk, not smile, smirk. And narrow my eyes; that's what makes my older brothers look so much more intimidating that me, they all have small eyes that make it look like they're perpetually glaring. So I'd smirk and narrow my eyes and then I'd walk, no stride, straight up to the stage and jump onto it. The stairs at the sides of the stage are for the unprepared. And me? I'm completely prepared. I stand up there and I would grin at them. Grin my most menacing grin so sponsors know that I am confident and sure of myself and entirely there by purpose. I'd take the microphone from Soul and say, "I thought you'd never ask. I thought I was finally going to have to volunteer." But of course that isn't really much of an issue. I know that your odds get worse the older you get, but come on. This is the first year I've had to take out tesserae and both of my brothers got out okay after they took out tons of tesserae. I made it through five years, what's so special about the sixth year?

"James Cygnet!" Soul calls.

I remember the plan but my face won't move.

_Shit_.

It's been too long to make the smirk work, hasn't it? Everyone knows I'm scared now.

Maybe I should have rehearsed this.

To hell with it.

I smirk and narrow my eyes and cut through the crowd. I hurtle onto the stage, landing in a crouch and straighten up, my back still facing the audience. I motion for Soul to give me the mic and he looks confused but complies. I take it and turn towards his, making sure the audience can see most of me now.

"Now how did you know I was going to volunteer this year?" I say as I cock my head to the side at him in mock accusation.

His face lights up and he snatches the mic back from me. "Well haven't we got a winner here, folks!"

I turn toward the audience and arch my brow which I know emphasizes the already piercing blue-green of my wide eyes.

The crowd roars, clearly pleased to have someone they think may be able to win.

I wish I shared their confidence.

I'm sure my father will be so pleased with me for my performance. My brothers will undoubtedly call me a dork for lying, but I know they mean well.

I turn to face the thirteen-year-old girl and she is watching me with a calculating stare. I know we're supposed to shake hands but I find myself reluctant to touch her. She looks alien, not human and I'm afraid she might zap me or something if I shake her hand.

But the audience and the sponsors are watching so I extend my hand with a grin and she accepts it. She seems just as reluctant as I am. She barely grips my hand so I decide to up the ante and grip her hand tightly and give it an enthusiastic shake before throwing an arm around her shoulder and waving at the crowd.

_I hope you're watching_, I think as I grin, praying that the Careers and sponsors are watching and thinking I'm a valuable candidate.

* * *

><p><strong>REVIEW!<strong>


	8. District Six Reaping

**A/N: And District Six! IN QUICK SUCCESSION!**

* * *

><p><strong>District Six<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Lorena Anguine<strong>

Tick, tock, tick, tock, I think to myself as I lay in bed. I usually wake up around 9:30 or so but today I decide to see how long I can stay in bed before my parents come to get me. I should be going to school, but if my parents aren't going to make me, why should I?

I look around the walls of my room and notice that my butterflies are slightly crooked.

No, I mean it. Butterflies.

They were among the first things I dissected. Easy to catch and mostly without feeling. I didn't have any sympathy for them, even back then. It started with a bird that had run into one of our windows and died. I was supposed to take it to the trash but instead I wanted to see what made it tick so I cut it open. It was a very sloppy dissection, but I found the heart. It was still warm when I put it in one of our jam jars. It's sitting on my desk next to my lamp, a dog's heart in a jar and a cat's eyes in a jar.

Tick, tock. Do my parents even care that I am skipping school? Apparently not.

I decide it's finally time to get up and move around. Maybe since I'm already late, Mother and Father won't make me go to school at all.

I pull on some mostly clean clothes (I don't count the blood stains on the hem of my shirt, those will never come out) and walk into the kitchen/living area where my parents are sitting at the breakfast table eating bread and drinking tea.

"Good morning, Lorena. You slept late," my mother says as she pours some tea into a mug for me.

"Yeah," I answer as I tear a piece off of the bread and dunk it into my tea. I look over at the clock hanging above our stove. It's eleven. I did sleep late.

"You know you should probably put something decent on for the Reaping this afternoon," my father says and I know it isn't really a suggestion.

"The Reaping is today?" I ask as I shove another chunk of bread into my mouth.

"Yes. Didn't you wonder why you didn't have school?" my mother asks and I shrug.

"No. I didn't really care,"

"You'll change your tune if your name gets called, young lady," my father says and I can tell my apathy has angered him.

"Don't talk like that," my mother scolds him and then turns back to me, looking placating. "We just want to make sure you know everything that's at stake when you stand out there, Lorena. We worry about you."

"Okay," I say as I stuff the heel of the bread into my mouth and chug the rest of my tea. I get up and move toward the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" my father asks.

"Research," I say as the door closes behind me.

I go around and check my traps around the edges of the fence. I caught a fat squirrel in one, but I've dissected dozens of squirrels. I could write a book about the body of squirrels. I want something bigger and more complicated to study. Catching a cat a few months back had been wonderful. Its eyes were beautiful and now decorate my desk. And the dog heart? No, I didn't catch the dog in my traps. Our neighbors' dog died and they buried it in the field at the edge of town, I heard them crying and telling they're daughter what happened so I went and dug it up. Ugliest thing I had ever seen, but it was heaven to dissect. I caught a raccoon in another trap. I take them back to the edge of town near the warehouses.

This is my hide out. It's my place where no one can follow or at least they would be dumb to follow. I make quick work of the squirrel though I do note that it was pregnant and I wish I had let it live long enough for the embryos to develop further so that I could dissect them too. The raccoon is more fun to dissect. This one had rabies and was losing all of its fur so I had to make sure to wash all the blood off my hands before I touched my face.

I wasn't so careful with the squirrel and its blood is smeared across the hem of my shirt and the legs of my pants. When I'm through, I cut the usable squirrel meat up and throw it into one of the sterile sacks I carry with me and on a whim I throw the uterus with the embryos in with it to keep. I cut the raccoon's meat up to put in my traps as I head back to the house.

That finished I throw the bag of meat on the breakfast table and go to get a jar; it doesn't need to be that big.

I hear a squeal from the kitchen and sigh. I walk back into the kitchen and see my mother looking at the contents of the bag.

"It moved," she says by way of explanation as she indicates the uterus full of squirrel embryos.

"Maybe it is worth dissecting then. I was just going to put it away for decoration," I say as I walk over and pick it up. "Can I have a knife?"

"You are not going to use one of my good kitchen knives for dissecting and anyways, you need to get washed up for the Reaping," my mother says.

"Fine," I say as I turn toward the bathroom, "But just leave it out. I want to keep it."

Half an hour later I am clean and in one of my mother's blouses and skirt. She said that she didn't want me looking like a murder. The way I see it, isn't that what I should look like? She says she is going to get ready and that I should be ready to walk to the square when she's through getting ready and my father will meet us there.

And she disappears into the bathroom for God knows how long.

I look over at the squirrel uterus on the counter and the drawer full of knives. They aren't as precise as a scalpel, but they'll have to do.

I take the uterus and the knives and the jar to the desk in my room and get to work.

There are five partially developed embryos in the squirrel's uterus. I smile, they're even still warm. I'm glad I decided to keep it. I cut into two of them but leave the others intact, still connected to walls of the uterus. I pile them all into a slightly larger jar so they can spread out. I take the large canister of formaldehyde out from under my desk and gingerly fill the jar and screw the lid onto it. My hair is getting in the way and I angrily push it back behind my ears leaving streaks of red across my cheeks.

Finally I sit back and admire my handiwork. The two opened squirrels float languidly near the bottom of the jar while the three others look over them, the uterus floating even above them. I look down and notice that my hands are still covered in blood. I listen and confirm that mother is still in the bathroom. There's no way to wash them then.

So I wipe them down the front of my skirt and blouse.

I clean up my desk and set the squirrels on one of my shelves to display. They go very well next to the preserved squirrel I fileted so that all of the muscles were separated.

"Time to go, Lorena," my mother says as she knocks on my door.

"Coming," I say as I walk out of the room, past my mother and out the door.

I hear her chasing after me. "Young lady, what did you do to my good skirt and blouse?"

"Huh? Oh," I had forgotten about the blood. "Oops."

"Oops? We have to get you cleaned up," she says as she reaches into her purse and pulls out a handkerchief and spits on it and proceeds to attack my face with it.

"Quit it," I say as I pull away. "I don't care what I look like."

"I'll not have you show up with blood all over your face," my mother says as she continues to wipe my face despite my protests. Finally I just give in and let her wipe my face.

"We're going to be late, Mother," I say impatiently. It isn't that I care about being late, it's that I want her to stop fretting over me.

When we reach the square, my father frets over my appearance as well but finally it is time to take our places with our age groups.

It's a shame no one from our district ever does well because this dump could use some attention.

The mayor is talking and no one is listening and Icosah is swishing his perfectly dyed fingertips around in the large glass ball of girl's names.

_They won't last_, I think to myself as he finally takes a name slip in his hand and pulls it out of the ball and reads of a name.

"I would last," I mutter and the people around me look at me funny. "I volunteer."

It isn't particularly loud, but the people around me hear and look at me, aghast, I see Icosah is still going on so I say louder, "I volunteer."

Icosah stops, confused and turns his attention to the direction of my voice. I raise my hand for emphasis as I walk toward the stage and say again, "I volunteer."

I pass the eighteen-year-old whose life I just saved and mount the stage. Icosah looks at me, first pleased and then alarmed. I realize my appearance is less than acceptable so I look at him and blink innocently. "I help my parents with experiments. It's animal blood from a dissection. I didn't have time to change before the Reaping."

Icosah looks suddenly relieved and asks, "What is your name?"

"Lorena Anguine,"

Icosah smiles and turns grandly back to the audience. "Lorena Anguine is your new tribute!"

I turn toward the audience and nod although I can't hold back the ghost of a smirk, trying to escape. I can just imagine the fascinating animals they'll have in the arena. I have to last at least long enough to dissect them.

* * *

><p><strong>Edwin Drood<strong>

That Lorena is a crazy one. I can't believe she volunteered. I'm glad she did though, mind you. Poor Oriana has a lot of younger siblings to take care of; she can't afford to be put into the Games. I breathe a sigh of relief that it wasn't Alice's name on that slip. I mean, I know Lorena was going to volunteer anyway, but still, it would be nerve-wracking enough just knowing she could have gone into the Games. I would have volunteered in a heartbeat to protect her.

Alice is all I have. She's my everything and someday, she'll be mine for real; forever. That day is a long way off though. I'm prepared though. I touch the gold bands on the strap of leather I wear around my neck and smile. That always calms me down.

I look over to where all the girls are standing and find her. She's facing forward, looking relieved. She must feel my eyes on her because she turns to look at me and smiles shakily. I smile back and hope that it makes her feel better. She suddenly looks worried and points at me.

I shake my head and smile softly. The likelihood of my name being called is not that high. She still looks concerned, but not nearly as panicked as she had a second before.

I tune back in when I hear Icosah announce that it is time to draw the boy's name. I can't help the icy feeling that settles like a cold knot in my stomach. What if it is me? That would ruin everything. For all my brave show to Alice, I am terrified. What if it _is_ me?

"Edwin Drood," Icosah calls brightly.

"You can't be serious," I say just loud enough for everyone to hear.

I know my jaw must be on the floor, but I can't seem to find the strength to close my mouth. I look over at Alice and see that she is crying. We make eye contact and she collapses, sobbing.

"Alice!" I shout as I make my way toward her crumpled form.

"You can't go," she says through sobs as she looks up at me.

"I have to," I say. "They're going to make me."

And sure enough the Peacekeepers are there, grabbing me and pulling me toward the stage. I shake them off, telling them that I will go on my own power, I just have to make sure Alice is alright first.

"Alice, you have to promise me, you'll take care of yourself, okay?" I say and she nods.

I pull her to her feet and wrap my arms around her. She's small and sweet and smells like honey and I want to stay with her, but I can't.

"I'll come see you later," she says with a shaky smile as she releases me.

I turn toward the Peacekeepers and see they're all tensed as if they may have to take me down at any moment. I walk up to the stage and notice that Lorena is looking at me strangely, like she doesn't quite comprehend what just happened. I look levelly back at her. She doesn't need to understand, in fact, better if she doesn't.

Icosah has been talking and I haven't been listening, but Lorena extends her hand as if for me to shake it. I hesitate when I see the drying blood under her fingernails, but I decide that fear is not the best way to get sponsors so I take her hand and shake it firmly. Her grip is loose and awkward and she grimaces slightly at me.

Oh yeah, she's gonna win the sponsors over.

I smile a little bit at the thought and turn toward the audience. I spot Alice, not applauding and I look her straight in the eye and wink. She looks startled and then smiles indulgently at me.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, Please!<strong>


	9. AUTHOR'S NOTE 2

_**SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE OF DOOM**_

Sorry, it actually doesn't involve doom in any way. What it does involve is some information!

**Firstly**, I am still writing this story, I just had a bit of writer's block and had a very demanding schedule.

**Secondly**, I have now discovered the estimated length of this story. Here is a list for those of you who like to add.

Reapings: One per district (12)

Goodbyes and Train rides: One per district (12)

Chariot ride: One (1)

Training: One per day (3) I will not be writing what happens during the training sessions though as that is private as well. It will be the Gamemakers talking about the tributes at the end of each day. This portion will be crucial as it will give you some idea as to what your tribute needs to improve on and who to become allies with as well as who to target.

Release of the scores: One (1) I will not be writing what each tribute does during the private session as it is typically private.

Interviews: Split in half (2)

Night before the arena: One (1)

Days in the arena: I have decided on a number of days though it may change so don't get angry. The number can only go up. (15)

Clean up: One (1)

Recap with the Victor: One (1)

Closing Interview: One (1)

For those of you who don't like math (like me) that comes out to be 50 chapters. Not counting author's notes of course.

**Thirdly**, if your tribute's name is on this list I need train advice for them. Keep in mind, this is not the end all, be all in advice. You're going to get at least four more opportunities to give advice as the story progresses. I will tell you when an opportunity arises. Also, if I don't get advice then your tribute will not receive advice and it will be a mad message to send to sponsors that the mentor favors the other tribute more than yours. Also I need to know whether you want your tribute coached solo or with your district partner.

Here's the list:

Calista Caedes

Jace Tignor

Pontius Sapher

Lucy Pavlow

Genesis Brighton

Tyler Rayling

Jake Knight

Nadianna Woodlock

James Cygnet

Ophelia Whinters

Lorena Anguine

Edwin Drood

I apologize if you already sent me train advice. My account messed up and I lost all my PMs so if you could send it again, that would be great. Here is the format I would like you to send it in. Also, if your tribute is **not on this list** please do not send me train advice yet. After I post each chapter I will put a list of who still owes me train advice.

To: Acacia Eastbramble

Subject: Train Advice (YourTribute DistrictNumber)

Example:

Train Advice (Dahlia Lokspur 10)

**Fourthly**, I will in fact release clues about the envionment the arena will be held. If you can PM me the answer and an example of where the climate exists then your tribute will receive a hint from your stylist about what they're wearing into the arena. That will be your conformation that you got it right.

**Fifthly**, I've been planning out deaths and orders and catastophes and it's really hard to kill off these characters. You've all done such a great job that I'm actually feeling guilty about killing them so well done!

**Sixthly**, get yourself some sponsers! Have them PM me. Get ally's creators to sponser your tribute. And after your tribute is dead, use your credits to sponser who you think should win.

_**Seventh and Most**_ _**Importantly**__**,** _I still need outfits for tributes during the interviews. Please please please get these to me before the inerviews or else your tribute may end up naked or hideous. I'll do it out of spite, don't think I won't. Also if you have any ideas for the chariot costumes for your district, let me know. I have ideas for a couple but I'm always up for suggestions.

Thanks for all your patience.

_Acacia Eastbramble, Head Gamemaker_


End file.
